


Monsters

by Cosmicboredom



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chance Meetings, Charles is a Sweetheart, Charles-centric, Erik Has Feelings, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik is a Stalker, Hurt Charles, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Possessive Erik, Stalking, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-02 23:10:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21169436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmicboredom/pseuds/Cosmicboredom
Summary: The Shadow walked him home. Of course, he knew the way. Of course, he knew the key for the security lock."You should be more careful." The man in the Shadow said.





	Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> I just... See, this... Er, huh. This actually just, sort of, happened? I dunno what really possessed me to do this, but I did it.

It was like time stopped, and only moved forward at a snail's pace. He tried to act like nothing was different, but the footsteps only a yard away told him to run fast despite his calm gaite.

Besides, running might upset them.

So he walked, briskly and without stopping, down his street. The sidewalks were crowded, but it didn't deter his stalker and it didn't deter him. He slipped between two rather large men, both towered over him and, simultaneously, blocked him from view. He looked back for a split second, between the two men who barely noticed him in the first place, gabbing about some sport.

There, in the crowd, wearing the same black hood and jacket, was a tall, lanky shadow. It had been following for weeks, though he couldn't really place the first time he'd seen it.

"Oi, what you lookin' at, son?" One of the giants asked, and he looked away.

"Nothing." He said while the two stared down the street where he was looking.

A large hand landed on his shoulder, and he jumped. "Ain't nothing there. You look like you seen a ghost, mate. Do you need a kip?"

He shook his head with a polite smile. "No, thank you. I'm just losing it in this fine morning air." He said without conviction. "Just gonna pop into the grocer's, grab a coffee. Hope you gents have fine day."

He turned around and started walking again. Only to stop as someone started screaming bloody murder.

The man who had laid a hand to his shoulder was yelling, screaming that his hand had broken, someone had come by and broke his hand.

He quickly made his way to the grocer's. He wasn't going to get involved, it would not end well.

They shouldn't have paid him any attention at all.

Most of his coworkers had already learned this, despite all the warnings he'd given. But when Angel gave him a kiss goodnight- after a particularly long night at the computers- and she was found brutally beaten the next morning, suddenly he was a martyr of the office. No one dared to touch him, and they barely talked to him anymore. The Shadow had him cornered from the very beginning.

He almost ran to the corner store, ran from the sounds of a man in agony. They shouldn't have touched him.

As soon as the doors opened, he let out a sigh of relief. The Shadow never walked into the stores with him, though he suspected it was some sort of anxiety. There was no escape from it in crowds on the street, but it seemed to be something about the enclosed spaces that kept his stalker at bay. He abused this at every opportunity.

He browsed the aisles, not really hungry or thirsty, just revelling in his freedom. There was a pack of biscuits he hadn't seen before, so he scooped them up.

The door swung open, the bell on the handle jingled merrily. He knew- somehow, he _ knew _\- that his Shadow had entered the store. Must've taken weeks to gather the courage, maybe he was silently goading his stalker to make bolder moves. He refused to acknowledge it, he just hummed at the shelf and moved on to the soft drinks. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of the Shadow.

The feeling of being watched hadn't gone away, his skin prickled with the weight of it.

He was paying sooner than he realized, the Dr. Pepper was cold in his hand but the biscuits were crushed by his anxiety. He didn't speak the entire time, maybe his Shadow would know that he overstepped a boundary.

If not, _ nowhere _ was safe.

Someone stepped up behind him as he waited for his change, and he shifted a bit. It was uncomfortable, almost like being trapped. The person leaned closer, and sniffed at his hair.

"Oi!" He yelped.

"Oh, relax, bubala. Your shampoo. What do you use?" An older man said at his ear.

He swallowed heavily. How could no one see this?

"Er-"

He was interrupted by a gruff voice. "I believe he doesn't want you that close. You might want to back off."

He looked up, the jacket- it was the _ same jacket- _ stood between him and the older man. The hood was down, though, and he was surprised by the short, blonde hair that stood up in all directions.

"Ooh, your boyfriend is a looker." Someone said behind him, while he was sweating under his fear.

"Here, two pounds. Thank you, please come again." The cashier told him in a bored voice. He just nodded as an arm snaked around his.

"Come, love." The Shadow said. He panicked, was this a rescue or a kidnapping? He walked along quietly, his head down.

The Shadow walked him home. Of course, he knew the way. Of course, he knew the key for the security lock.

"You should be more careful." The man in the Shadow said. He just nodded. "Hey, look at me."

He obeyed, he knew what might happen if he didn't.

The man looked different, as if he wasn't stalking someone every day for the last five years. He was clean-shaven and rather handsome, if not for the predatory grin splitting his face.

"Stay safe."

And he walked out of the front door.

He changed the key for the security lock, he changed the arrangement of his living room so that there were corners to bump into at every turn. He changed his curtains to heavy drapes that wouldn't flutter so easily with the wind.

If the Shadow knew the key, then he'd been inside and knew the layout.

He wasn't going to take any chances with the man. Who knew what would happen now, now that he had seen the _ face _. Would he be targeted now? Was there some sort of ritual he was supposed to be following? Was he making his Shadow angry?

He went out that night, for a pack of smokes, knowing that his stalker could be right behind him. Was he not being safe enough? Would the Shadow step into the store again? He felt like he'd run a kilometer before he reached the store, he was panting hard. The clerk barely understood him, but just ignored it as if he were some junkie from the streets. He might've looked feverish enough.

He walked out to the street and packed his smokes, fumbling with the cellophane and foil, before finally pulling out a fag. As he was flicking his lighter to life, a voice behind him said, "You shouldn't smoke, y'know?"

It was that same voice. He _ had _been followed.

His anxiety kept him quiet as he took in a deep drag. On the exhale, he looked back to see the hooded man leaning against the wall behind him. "You shouldn't follow people, y'know?" He quipped back on instinct, then slapped his hand over his mouth. "Oh god, I'm sorry." He whispered.

The man just laughed. "No harm. You are right, of course."

No further explanation. Great.

"So, er, follow a lot of scientists lately?" He wondered, not really curious about it in fact, but it had crossed his mind before.

"No." The Shadow shrugged. "Just you."

"Ah."

The silence between them stretched on, despite the business of the street itself.

"So, today. With the big-" he cut himself off, maybe it would trigger the man.

"With the big Jewish man? Or the bodybuilder who made you uncomfortable?" The Shadow finished for him.

"Made me uncom- You make me uncomfortable!"

"I see."

"God," he fumbled for the right words. "What I mean is… stalking me isn't how you gain relationship status with me. I have been terrified, still am terrified, of how this will end. Stalkers aren't guardian angels, y'know? I've never heard of a stalker _ saving _ the victim. So, can we please talk about what you need from me?"

"I never thought about killing _ you _."

"So then, what is it that you want? You want money? You can have it."

The Shadow remained silent. It frustrated him.

"I've seen your face. I can call the police." He said, trying to threaten the man.

"You won't."

"What makes you think that?"

"You don't like to ask for help, and you like to fight your own battles. I don't see you running to the _ polizei _for help." The Shadow said, matter of factly. "How is your sister? Last time I saw her, you were both screaming at each other."

That was two years ago. He had been asking her to stay with him, instead of her boyfriend, who worked in a rather shady company that owned two of the largest clubs in Paris. He had been to the establishments before, and found they were as seedy as he had originally thought. They barely spoke since then.

"She decided to stay in Paris." He said after a long pause.

"That's tough. Don't you get stir-crazy in that house by yourself?" The Shadow asked as if they were new buddies. He turned fully, but the man didn't remove his jacket.

"No, and speaking of which, I am going home."

"Let me walk you." The man said and pushed off the wall. "It was nice to be so close this morning. I didn't think I could do it, until I saw that guy. Did you think it was me?"

He just gawked for a moment. How could anyone be so cavalier with their crimes?

"C'mon. You can tell me, y'know? You stiffened up like he was grabbing your arse or something." The Shadow teased, reaching out to brush his hair back into place.

He pulled back a bit. "I did think it was you. I thought you were going to kidnap me."

The Shadow laughed again. "Oh, no. Never thought about _ that _ either. I'm more of a 'watch-and-wait' kind of guy."

"You killed my cat."

"Hey!" The Shadow said indignantly. "No. I _ don't _ kill animals, they just don't like me. Your neighbor did that, and I broke his hands for it, remember?"

He _ did _ remember his neighbor being driven a lot by his daughter. Did the guy even go to the doctor? He didn't remember casts, or bandages.

"Wait, you broke his hands?"

"Yeah, the man can't masturbate to twelve-year-olds now, eh?" The Shadow joked. "It's getting cold, you should be inside." The man reached out, and pulled his jacket forward. Tucking it over his shoulders securely before buttoning it up for him.

"What do you want from me?" He asked, his voice shaky. The man may not be as violent towards him as he was to others, but this was still a stalker. A polite stalker, but still.

The shadowy hood faced him fully, and he could catch a glimpse of that same predatory smile in the lamplights. "Easy, mate. Don't go asking questions you're not ready for." He said.

"Oi, what're you doing shoutin' in the middle of my living room, in the middle of the night?!" He shouted as he walked down the hall, and down the stairs. The Shadow was _ clearly _upset, and he didn't know how else to approach this situation.

"That _ cunt! _ Who does she think she is? It is no _ wonder _ you don't want to give her money, no wonder you want nothing to do with her!"

"Are you really raving about my _ mother _ after _ breaking into my house_?" He asked. He could laugh. He did laugh. "What did you see that made _ that _ real to you?"

The Shadow pointed at him, almost as if to shush him. "She is fucking that whale of a step-brother, while your step-_ father _ plays god in the next room! And she has the gall- _ the gall, I tell you! _\- to come begging to you for money!"

"Yes, this was all _ very _ clear to me thirteen years ago. What, did you think I was heartless? That I willfully sent my mother away in her time of need? I am _ not _ the bad son, you blubbering idiot."

"Blubbering?!"

"Furthermore, I hardly see how any of it is your business. Since you are my stalker, and all. Explain to me why it matters what my family does to me." He said, rubbing his forehead to help fight off the frustration.

"Because I want to kill her!" The Shadow shouted. "Because I want her to suffer like she makes you suffer! Because I seem to be the _ only one _who actually cares about you. And I'm- I'm a violent person, yeah, I'll admit it.

But _ caring _about you made me forget."

"Have you stopped to think about what I want?"

"What you want conflicts with your best interests, Charles. You know that."

He sighed. "_ Fine then. _ But you have to stop killing. If the people around me start dying off, don't you think someone will start looking into it, and therefore, threatening me? Future, Erik, not present-thinking. Even _ one death _ could spell disaster for me."

"Future-thinking, right." The Shadow scoffed, then muttered something in German. Charles had been researching a bit so he could surprise his stalker-friend, and it sounded suspiciously endearing. "You are too trusting of that woman. Blood or not, I would've left her in the dust."

"Trust me, I can only care enough that I don't get caught in crime. By the way, how did you get in? I changed the key two months ago." Charles crossed his arms over his chest.

"You only have two birthdays to remember, I tried both."

Charles stared at him. "Well, bollocks. You may as well come and go as you like. Not likely I'll come up with another set of numbers that I'll remember."

"Where are you going?"

"Back to bed. I have work in the morning."

"Can I sleep next to you?"

The Shadow, or Erik as he would want to be called, sounded desperate. As if he would literally die if Charles said no. Or maybe he would kill Charles. Who knows?

"Fine."

Charles awoke later that morning perfectly alive.

"So, why don't you have a wife and kids?"

Charles looked up from his lunch, surprised that his Shadow hadn't figured it out yet. "Because I'm married to my work."

"That's not true. You hate it there."

"Erik, this isn't exactly the easiest question to answer."

"Yes it is. I don't have kids because I hunted bad people when I was younger, and couldn't find time for family. You don't have kids because you don't like women. What's so hard about it?"

Charles blushed to the tips of his ears and into his shirt collar. "It's not polite talk for company. I prefer to keep it to myself."

"Except when you bring men home. You do know that this is the twenty-first century, and you don't have to hide it."

"Erik."

"You could even adopt, or buy a dog. Or a cat. I miss Poindexter."

Charles choked a bit. "Her name was Scarlet!"

"I thought it was male." Erik shrugged. "I also thought you were just a stuck-up scientist, so I called it Poindexter. What's the problem?"

"Putting aside all those stalking hours, you hung out with my cat?"

"Is it that surprising?"

"I thought animals didn't like you."

"Well, yeah. I was trying to get it to trust me. But it was too smart or something. They can sense that I'm not _ normal _."

"You're _ not _normal, but I'm starting to like it." Charles said with a smile.

Erik stared at him.

"What? Have I got mayo on my face?"

"People don't like me."

Charles stopped. He didn't even realize he had said it, but he couldn't say it wasn't true. He _ did _ like Erik, now that he knew him, now that he knew the Shadow's face. "Well, I'm not taking it back." He defended. "If that violates our relationship, then fucking kill me. I like you, and that's that."

"I like you, too." Erik said with a smile that spoke of some secret Charles wasn't yet privy to.

"Right, then." He said, unsure of what lay ahead.

"My mother died in an accident today, was that you?" Charles asked as soon as he walked in the door.

Erik had been basically living with him for a year now, he knew he was both followed home and followed inside. It had been tumultuous, but there had only been one scare in all of it. And when Charles mentions it, Erik makes dinner or cleans the house to emphasize his guilt and regret. He knew this would be a fight for the ages.

"If it was?" Erik asked from the back door.

Charles growled to himself as Erik entered the living room. "I will personally see to it that your life is miserable."

"I didn't."

"If you're lying to me-!"

"I swear!" Erik held up his hands. "I didn't do it. I was busy."

"Busy?! Doing what? Following me around? Breaking my neighbor's bones? Creeping through my closet?"

"What's in your closet?" Erik wondered.

"Nothing!" Charles screamed. He stomped over and grabbed Erik's jaw tightly. "Look at me, and tell me that you didn't do this! I swear to God I will kill you."

Erik's storm-grey eyes were calm through his hurricane, barely flinching at the nails digging into his skin. Charles almost felt underestimated. "I. Did. Not. Kill. Your. Mother."

Charles sagged, all the anger was flushed. Erik was either a superb liar, or he was telling the truth. "If you're lying-"

"I can't lie to you."

"What were you doing then?"

"I don't want to tell you." Erik said, and his eyes seemed to shut him out.

"I _ need _ to know, Erik."

The sigh brought them closer than they had ever been during the day, and Charles wanted that warmth all over him.

"I was looking. In the Shelter."

"Animals don't like you, you idiot. Stop taunting them." Charles pushed Erik, and the Shadow just smiled.

"No, I know. But enough of that, yeah? How are you holding up?"

"She was a cunt and it was an accident. I'd say I'm better now." Charles sighed, and walked away to throw his coat and bag on the couch. Then he threw himself on the couch. "Come read to me? I had a stressful day at work."

"Yeah?" Erik prodded as he picked out a book from Charles' many shelves, and then sat beside him.

"Everyone consoling me about my mother, pretending I didn't absolutely hate her, dodging every question about her death. Yeah, stressful." Charles explained as he sprawled out on the couch with his head in Erik's lap.

"Mm, pretending to be something you're not, where have I heard that?"

"I know, I'm becoming more like you. Horrible, isn't it?"

"I like it." Erik said with a private smile. "Reminds me of how much I've influenced you."

Charles looked up to see Erik smiling. "I told you I liked you, didn't I?"

Charles woke up one morning to an empty house, Erik obviously had some plan in mind, and whether that was good or bad remained to be seen. But it was a Saturday, and they usually got up to make breakfast together. He wondered what could deviate Erik's rather strong will to stay on schedule.

But he didn't dwell on it. Too much. Well, he was able to review his research without thinking about it. But beyond that he was lost to the restlessness left behind.

Somehow, Erik brightened his surroundings. And it all just seemed dull without him.

So, he basically haunted his own home. There was no one to talk to, no one to read with, no one to appreciate the breakfast with him. He just floated. Drifted away while his body made attempts to look alive.

He had no idea this was what his life was like a year and a half ago, that he was just wasting away in his job and home.

He suddenly understood why Erik chose him. They were both devoid of something they desperately needed. Hell, he would stalk himself. Just to see if there was some way to help.

That was all he needed apparently, he sprang up off the couch, out of his stupor, and ran to his downstairs closet. He threw on a jacket and walked out into the world, maybe he could do some stalking of his own.

He wasn't very good at it, however. Erik wasn't very open with the activities he had outside of Charles, and it wasn't for a lack of trying. If he had _ seen _ Erik leaving his house, he would know what to do. Now, he was just blind in London looking for a Shadow.

He remembered Erik was trying to integrate with animals, so he went to all eleven shelters in his area. Turned up with nothing. Nobody even knew who Erik was.

It was starting to scare him.

"Charles?"

How was it possible for Erik to find him, in the middle of basically nowhere? What was going on?

"How did you find me?" Charles asked as he turned around. "I was looking for you everywhere."

Erik looked surprised at that. "Well, I know where you are always."

"How? Do you have a tracker? Am I bugged?" Charles gasped. "Are you MI6?"

"No, nothing like that. I just-" Erik paused. Was he coming up with a lie? "I just know. It's instincts."

"Can't be." Charles said. "Humans don't have those kind of instincts. Not even killers, our DNA simply doesn't allow for that kind of intuition."

It suddenly clicked in his head.

"What are you?"

"Charles, stop this. You'll end up hurting yourself." Erik said.

"Animals don't like you, and you just happen to _ know _where I am at all times? What are you, Erik? You're clearly not human."

Erik grimaced at him. "Charles, please. Just drop it. There's no point in doing this to yourself."

"Tell me, Erik!" He screamed.

Erik gazed at him, looking rather sad and wasn't it just ironic? That Charles would end up falling- no, that did _ not _happen.

"You're right, Charles, and damn you for being so smart."

"Tell me everything, Erik."

Erik looked around, the street was empty but there were eyes everywhere. Charles learned this from Erik. "Not here. Let's go home." Erik pleaded, and when Charles was about to start shouting again, he added; "I promise I'll tell you everything, but not out in the open."

Charles grit his jaw, biting off whatever he was going to say. "Fine, but you're making the tea." He pushed Erik's shoulder. "Take me home."

Erik nodded, wrapping his arm around Charles' shoulder.

When they got home, it was raining, but the rain seemed not to touch them. Erik wasn't human, and it made Charles angry. A whole year, and finally he was getting the fucking truth.

Erik made the tea as commanded, and brought it out with the biscuits that Charles really liked. If he was trying to gain favor by doing this, he wasn't saying. That made Charles even more livid. And then finally, Erik was sitting, not drinking the tea, not eating the biscuits, while Charles fixed his cup.

"You want to know what I am." Erik finally said, as Charles set the spoon down.

"Yes, I feel it's prudent at this point." Charles said with as much venom as he could produce. He was tired of getting jerked around.

"I haven't lied about myself, y'know?" Erik started. "I never lied."

"No, you just omitted part of the truth."

Erik sneered at him. "How else was I going to get you to fucking notice me? I already tried appearing to you in the mirrors and shadows! I didn't have enough power then. I couldn't have touched you if I wasn't in this meat-suit."

"So what exactly are you?" Charles asked.

"I'm a monster, a very old one. I used to be called Ashma, by the Zoroastrians. I have been in many great cities, both old and new, but none are as freeing as the streets of London. I was still old when your kind came into being, and I have been watching ever since.

"Your Christian believers call me by many names, none of which I like. They liken me to lechery and lust, sometimes wrath. But I am merely trying to get by, trying to survive among a species I hardly understand. I have done many things, animals do not like me, and I am thankful to you for teaching me to cook. I never lied about that.

"I always know where you are because I can sense you, I have been near you long enough that I can find you anywhere in this city. I found you this way and haven't been able to save you from this."

It was the most Erik had ever said about himself.

"Now, I'm fairly certain you don't want me around anymore. So I bid you a good life, my friend." Erik said suddenly and got up.

"What? Wait, what do you mean?" Charles asked, but Erik said nothing as he started for the door. He was reaching out before he realized it.

Charles shot out of his seat, grasping at whatever he could hold, and caught the back of that jacket firmly in his grasp. Erik stopped, though he probably didn't _ need _ the jacket, could've walked off without it. Did monsters like Erik feel the cold?

"I'm not good for you, Charles." Erik said as if he could read minds. And he probably could. Charles didn't exactly agree with the words, but the sentiment was still palpable.

"Do you think I care?" Charles asked, his voice wavering a little. "I didn't care when you killed my step-brother, why would I care now?"

"I am a monster. I will always kill someone, will always hurt someone. I am the demon under kids beds, and you are human. Fragile, and loving, and full of life. I will hurt you one day."

Charles shook his head. He didn't care about any of that. "You won't hurt me, Erik. I trust you, and I want you to stay, if you will."

Erik shook his head, and the jacket slipped from his fingers. The door opened, and there was a sound. Like a puppy being kicked.

He put a hand over his mouth as he realized _ he _ made that noise. There was nothing that could make a being like Erik stay. He was crying, sobbing, as if he'd been broken in two. It was an all-encompassing pain to hold it back, to not show this monster that he _ was _ being hurt. Then Erik would be right.

The door closed after a long moment.

Days passed. Charles hardly paid attention to anything beyond work and Mazlo's Hierarchy of Needs. He never slept in his bedroom, it felt too big, too empty. He never stopped at the convenience store again, in fact changed his route home so he wouldn't have to even deal with it. He ate lunch at his desk when he could, and didn't eat when he was too busy to leave the lab. His coworkers started trying to talk to him again, but he refused to engage with them most of the time. If it didn't involve business, he wasn't interested.

The telly was on more often than not, just to fill the silence left behind in his tomb of a house. To simulate someone being home when he got off work, so that he could feel his greatest disappointment cut even deeper into his soul. If Erik didn't want it, then he didn't either.

He smoked more often, too. Probably led to the lack of appetite at work. But he couldn't seem to care anymore. It was like he'd been plunged into ice water and never let up. He was frozen in time, sluggishly plodding through life with no direction or purpose.

Days blended together until it became weeks. And then suddenly it was spring again, and the sun was far too strong for his eyes. Finding him at his house bore shut curtains and hardly any lights. He was slowly becoming a hermit.

Then there was a knock at his door. It was a week day, so he couldn't think of anyone who would visit him at this hour, and brushed it off, hoping the mailman- or whoever- went away. He wrapped himself up tightly in his blankets and shut his eyes tight so he would fall asleep.

And there was another knock. Faster and angrier than the first.

He definitely didn't want to answer.

Finally, he heard footsteps recede from the front door and let himself relax again. His back ached now and then from his lack of movement. Now was one of those moments.

Then he felt a draft creep into his duvet, and sighed. The house was deteriorating now. Good.

"What are you doing?"

His stomach flipped over. He hadn't heard that voice in almost half a year, and it sounded angry with him. He refused to answer. Erik ought to _ know _ what he was doing.

"You're not helping anyone like this."

He remained silent, it was the Shadow's punishment that he would give no vocal ground. He pretended he was already asleep.

"Charles, I can't keep watching you do this to yourself."

Finally his anger got the better of him. "Oh, so you're still stalking me, but talking to me is out of the question." He snapped harshly.

"I am talking to you."

"After six months of nothing." Charles snorted.

"I thought it was better for you. Your friends were saying that you spend more time at home with me than doing anything else. I had to put a stop to it." Erik said, he sounded frustrated now.

"Again, do you _ ever _ think about what I want?" He snarled into his pillow. "Oh, no. I remember, you only work for my best interests. Taking control of my life without ever actually _ asking me if I want you to. _"

"I had considered that, yes." Erik said. "It was one of many reasons I elected to leave."

"Well, good on you." Charles said sarcastically.

He _ felt _ rather than heard Erik's sigh. "What would make you stop harming yourself?"

"What does it matter? You've fulfilled your obligation, you are free to stalk other unsuspecting mortals. Go." Charles said, even as the tears were refreshed and released into his pillow. He didn't _ want _ Erik to leave again, but his pride and his heart were ruined.

"Charles, I don't do this to everyone."

"Then, what, I was a game, or something? Let me tell you something, Ashma, humans feel betrayal and love, and pain. It may not be physical pain, but it hurts like someone stabbed me in the chest, and it's eternal. It will _ never _ go away! Do you hear me?!"

"Why are you yelling at me?"

"God, you don't even understand it!" Charles sat up, and put his head in his hands. "You hurt me! You basically ripped my heart out and stepped on it as you walked out! Do you understand that? That I let you hurt me, and have been asking you to keep hurting me, because you wanted to go and I let you. Why are you still here? Why come back? You didn't _ want _anything from me in the first place."

"Charles-"

"Just go."

Erik let out an unearthly growl. "I do not take orders from mortals." He said simply, and it deflated Charles. All the fight left him in a rush and he was _ so _tired. He just wanted to sleep forever.

"Fine, whatever. I don't give a rat's arse what you do, but I'm going to sleep because all this is tiring."

"Aren't you going to sleep in your bed?"

Charles let out a growl of his own. "It smells like you. I can't sleep when I'm reminded of how alone I am."

"Charles, you need to understand that I never intended to hurt you." Erik said, and Charles looked up to see his Shadow quaking with some sort of suppression.

"Then why did you leave me?" He asked, quietly. "I was happy."

Erik pursed his lips, and it was so surprisingly human that Charles wondered how he never noticed that Erik simply _ wasn't. _

"I left because I thought I was leaving a rather nasty impression on you. The church has it right sometimes, I _ am _the Prince of Lust, and I thought you had fallen under the spell." Erik shrugged. "I chose you because you weren't affected by it, the only man who wouldn't strip at the mere sight of me. It was ironic.

"I thought the prolonged exposure had been a bad thing, you were getting pliable. I didn't want you to be seduced. I heard the moment your heart seemingly broke, and I thought it couldn't possibly be real. You would be fine once I was gone, and you would hardly remember me. It shames me greatly to see that I was wrong, and I apologize. But it was nothing compared to the fate of unwilling souls, and I would give you away a thousand times before I barred you from eternal peace."

"You great big berk!" Charles shouted. "You left because _ I might have been under a spell_?! What kind of crazy idiocy have you been living with! Did you think there was no possible way I could- could-"

Erik stared at him. "Yes."

"Oh, you- you-!" Charles gasped in air, he would hyperventilate soon if he didn't calm down. "Stop thinking for me! I fucking fell for you, you twit, that is on _ me_, not you!"

"I wanted you to live a normal life."

Charles shook his head. "I wanted you, idiot." He whispered loud enough to be heard over the telly.

"I know." Erik said, and reached out to touch Charles' face. His fingers grazed over Charles' cheek, before making full contact and tilting his head up. "I heard you say it every night, when you thought you were alone. I can't leave you like this."

Charles shook his head again, slowly. "Don't leave me again."

Erik's lips were _ so _soft. And that smile was sweeter than sin. "I'll keep you forever."


End file.
